


Time May Change Me

by drjamband



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Connor is Adorable, Episode: s02e03 It's Called the Octopus, M/M, boys being sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drjamband/pseuds/drjamband
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Connor and Oliver's night in 2x03.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time May Change Me

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many Coliver ideas but then I watched this episode and I HAD SO MANY FEELINGS and porn came out.

_No price I wouldn’t pay to always have you with me._

_Nothing that I could take feels like the thrill you give me._

 

“You’ve changed,” Oliver says, chuckles still bursting forth.

Oliver’s eyes are bright in the darkened room and Connor has never felt so naked even though he’s still got his underwear on.  He grabs one of the pillows from the bed and hugs it to his middle.  “Yeah.  It’s because of you.”  He doesn’t meet Oliver’s eyes and his skin prickles and burns from the flame of embarrassment, but Oliver’s voice extinguishes it.

“Lay on your back,” Oliver whispers.

“Why?” Connor asks.

“I want to look into your eyes.”  And fuck if a few months ago Connor wouldn’t have thought that was the stupidest, cheesiest thing anyone could ever have said.  But now it gives Connor this swooping feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he’s pretty sure he’s trembling when Oliver yanks off his underwear.

Connor had expected this night to be quick and rough, at least in the first round.  But the mood has shifted, and Oliver is gently maneuvering Connor’s legs over his shoulders and uncapping the bottle of lube.  Connor lets his knees hook over Oliver’s shoulders, lets his heels press feather-light against the muscles in Oliver’s back.  He thinks about that bizarre sex party and how glad he is that it’s Oliver pushing a finger inside him, Oliver taking little shuddering breaths above him, Oliver whispering in his ear and breathing hot on his neck.

Oliver has just pushed the second finger in when Connor asks for more.  

“Connor, babe, slow down,” Oliver says, breathless and flushed and gripping Connor’s thigh with his free hand.

“Please, Ollie.  Please, I need you.”

Oliver sits back, lets Connor’s legs drop from his shoulders, and rolls on the condom with a shaky hand.  He hooks his hands under Connor’s thighs and brings Connor’s legs up around his own waist.  Connor’s hands scrabble and his nails dig into Oliver’s shoulders as soon as Oliver starts to push in, but Oliver doesn’t feel it; he’s overwhelmed by the look of awe on Connor’s face.

As soon as they’re flush together Connor leans up and wraps his arms around Oliver’s neck.  “I need you, Ollie,” he whispers.  “Always, Ollie, Ollie, please,” he says, gasping for breath against Oliver’s shoulder and _does he even really need to breathe right now?_

“I’m here,” Oliver says, cupping the back of Connor’s neck and laying him down.  Connor’s chest is pink and heaving and his eyes look feverish and Oliver can’t do anything but kiss him.  He slides his hands to Connor’s hips and starts to move.  Connor moans softly in the back of his throat.

When Oliver can no longer keep a steady pace he hunches over and drives forward.  Connor’s body jerks against the mattress, and Oliver wants to break him and then put him back together.  He leans down and sucks on Connor’s neck, and Connor’s legs tighten around his waist.

Connor turns his face into Oliver’s cheek and squeezes his eyes shut.  “Ollie, Ollie, you, always, always,” he says.  He wants Oliver to know.  He doesn’t want Oliver to ever doubt.

“So good, Connor.  You’re so good,” Oliver tells him.  And Connor feels like his orgasm is being torn from his body and he hears himself sob, but it’s okay because Oliver is there and he knows he’s safe.

When they finally clean up and get settled under the covers, Connor feels lighter than he has in weeks.  He smiles, all dopey and blissful.  Oliver smiles too.

“What?” Oliver asks.

Connor shakes his head.  He keeps grinning at Oliver, face half-hidden in the pillow.  “Ollie,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” Oliver asks.

But Connor doesn’t reply.  He’s almost asleep, body settling into the mattress.  

Oliver pulls him so they’re sharing a pillow and traces a finger along Connor’s bare back.  Connor’s skin is cooling, no longer flushed from arousal, but he is still beautiful, a slant of moonlight making his skin seem pearlescent.  

Oliver presses a kiss to Connor’s shoulder, and Connor huffs in his sleep, moving closer to Oliver’s warmth.  Oliver lets one hand tangle in Connor’s rumpled brown hair as his eyes shut of their own volition.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Song quote at the beginning is from "Best Dress" by Damien Jurado.


End file.
